Chapter 65

*The World Is Sinking, and We Are in Love*
Before they’d even made it through one chaotic summer, they’d already gotten a taste of a ridiculously indulgent weekend.
When she woke up, she found more than a dozen missed calls. Most were from Wen-jie; only a handful were spam.
Probably because she couldn’t reach her, Wen-jie also sent her a WeChat message: “Call me when you’re awake.”
When Qin Sang called back, Wen-jie was so angry she nearly laughed. “Well look at you—living the good life and hiding out. The company’s been going crazy these past two days.”
Qin Sang felt guilty. “Sorry to make everyone work so hard. I’ll add more to everyone’s year-end bonus this year.”
In fact, she was generous every year. After leaving her original agency, she set up her own studio. She treated the staff well, so everyone got along closely, and the quarterly and year-end bonuses were absolutely among the highest in the industry.
Wen-jie laughed. “Alright, alright. I’m just joking and you’re taking it seriously. I’m saying—you getting into a relationship and causing an uproar like this… that’s honestly a first in the business.”
“It’s not that exaggerated, is it?” Qin Sang didn’t sound very confident. Her tone was weak.
“Exaggerated? It’s not exaggerated at all. People have practically dug your whole life out.”
Ever since D Agency released that leaked video, it had basically nailed down the fact that she was dating. But dating wasn’t some unforgivable crime. Plus, with D Agency’s “masterfully divine” editing, they’d actually turned the secretly filmed material into a sweet, romance-flavored mini drama.
But because the existing leaks online were still pretty vague, fans only knew she was in a relationship—they didn’t know who the man was, so everyone guessed.
Netizens dragged out every man she’d ever had even the faintest rumor with and guessed one by one: some said it was a certain conglomerate CEO, others guessed a male celebrity, and some insisted she absolutely couldn’t be dating someone in the industry—so the guy must obviously be her sugar baby.
Her sugar baby? When she saw that comment, she couldn’t help laughing. But thinking about it again… it did kind of fit. With that face, Xie Yuncheng really did have the “kept man” potential.
Still, all that guessing was just blind men feeling an elephant—no hard evidence.
Not until a video reposted by a marketing account blew up and got pushed onto the hot searches did the mysterious boyfriend’s veil finally get lifted.
At first, no one cared. After all, the titles those marketing accounts used were always absurdly exaggerated—“Tsinghua’s youngest professor—who understands, family, you literally can’t look away.”
The video looked like it had been clipped straight from the official website. Tsinghua uploads lecture recordings to its site; originally it was only circulating in a small circle. No one knew how a marketing account found it, but once it got boosted, it broke out of the academic bubble completely.
【Before clicking: I want to see how handsome he really is. After clicking: AHHHH professor, step on me.】
【? This is the comments section, not the uninhabited zone.】
【Tell me which school this is—oh, Tsinghua? Never mind. I’ll never get in in this lifetime, wuwu.】
【Whose class is this even? Can you still focus on studying? I’m drooling the whole time.】
【No contact info either—so-so at best.】@Unlimited good reads, all on Jinjiang Literature City
【I’m dying at the comments—truly a gathering of scheming old pervs.】
Not all the comments were friendly. There were always a few who suddenly showed up just to nitpick.
【What a declining world. Teachers now have to rely on looks, huh? So young and already a professor—think about it, really think about it. If there isn’t something shady here, I’ll livestream myself doing a handstand while washing my hair. Some women are seriously long-haired and short-sighted—what’s the use of looking at that face? Just a useless pretty boy. What’s there to praise?】
The moment that appeared, people instantly got mad—especially since plenty of the commenters were Tsinghua students. Outsiders might not know, but would juniors at the same school not know?
What was originally just a nitpicky comment turned, in the blink of an eye, into a Tsinghua students’ group-chat meetup in the replies.
@Unlimited good reads, all on Jinjiang Literature City
【Oh wow, where’d this sour chicken come from—don’t let the acid kill you.】
【Look at you showing off. Did you even graduate elementary school? Jumping up and down here—what’s the point? If you’ve got the ability, go test into Tsinghua yourself.】
【Thanks for the invite—this is our senior from the School of Aerospace. The guy has real skills and built himself up step by step. You don’t accept it? Then hold it in. If you suffocate, that’s on you. Dumbass with a brain smaller than a sunflower seed.】
It was rare to see so many people from the same IP region show up at once—and all of them Tsinghua students. The comments section instantly turned into a “top student sightseeing spot,” and Tsinghua students started checking in.
【Holy crap—first time seeing so many living Tsinghua overachievers.】@Unlimited good reads, all on Jinjiang Literature City
【Honest question: are Tsinghua teaching credentials all at this level? I mean… do geniuses really get fed this well?】
【If you don’t work hard when you’re young, you’ll grow old and lick the screen like crazy.】
After that little commotion, the heat only grew higher. The identities of several academic big shots weren’t even in question—the official website had introductions. But as the youngest academic heavy-hitter invited to give a lecture, Xie Yuncheng stood out on his own. Netizens couldn’t find a Baidu Baike entry for him, but they dug up a bunch of old reports from years ago.
Because it had been so long—ten full years—an entire generation of surfers had already rotated. Those past reports had naturally been buried in some dark corner.
Yet his life résumé was practically reconstructed perfectly by all-powerful netizens. Some big-name bloggers even did full “deep dives,” slapping down the people who questioned whether his résumé was legit—how could someone so young become a professor?
Turns out he hadn’t only been outstanding recently—he’d been exceptional since childhood. A competition kid. They even flipped out the old news about his awards, and insiders popped up to add details.
【Everyone disperse. This one’s the real deal. I had the luck of being classmates with him for a while. Our high school class was an elite class—the kind with an elimination system. The pressure was insane. Every exam felt like signing a life-or-death contract. The so-called “military-style discipline” you hear about online for xx High is child’s play—our school was the true devil. No time to rest, didn’t even dare relax, terrified of getting eliminated. I held on under pressure for more than a year, then I couldn’t take it—my mentality collapsed and I got kicked to a regular class. But under that kind of high pressure, this guy stayed unbelievably steady. Big exams, small exams—never missed. Always #1 on the honor roll for years. He didn’t even take the gaokao—he was directly recommended into Tsinghua. Oh right—his comprehensive mock-exam scores were higher than the gaokao top scorer of our year. And even getting into our No. 1 High back then, he parachuted in as the middle-school exam top scorer. Didn’t even take the placement test.】
That information was more than detailed enough—and more than enough to prove his ability.
【Recommended into college, recommended into grad school, straight into the aerospace institute… the life of a god-tier student. Mind-blowing.】
【…So is the person questioning other people’s professor qualifications super impressive? How dare they? Just because real-name registration online isn’t fully enforced, they think they can say anything, huh?】
【I strongly suspect I’m schoolmates with this blogger—password check: jc?】
【I just want to know—Is he married? Does he have someone? Is he single?】
【Sis upstairs, don’t even think about it. Gods like this definitely married young.】
There really were Tsinghua students who kindly answered.
【Good news: he didn’t marry young. Bad news: he’s not single, and he’s super in love with his girlfriend. The god actually has his girlfriend’s photo as his phone wallpaper. Do you know what he saved her as? “Baby.” It’s “Baby”! Can you imagine—a frigid, intellectual, abstinent scholar type, but in private he’s actually a lovey-dovey brain-rotted sweetheart? Help, I’m going to faint.】
Lovey-dovey sweetheart? Was he? It didn’t seem that exaggerated. As Qin Sang scrolled through the comments, she quietly thought: Xie Yuncheng wasn’t good at sweet talk. The only time he deviated from that was when he did it—then he was completely different from his usual pure and ascetic image.
Online, everyone repeated hearsay. The farce that happened at the lecture site would of course never be released on the official website; the videos uploaded there were all edited. But students secretly filmed things, and for some reason, screenshots from a post originally made on Tsinghua’s campus forum suddenly spread.
The poster was a first-year grad student in the School of Aerospace, posting anonymously. There was no specific identifying info, but the content of the thread was all over the place. At first it was just a normal share of the lecture, but soon the tone went off the rails. The OP excitedly posted: 【Earth-shattering gossip! The god’s girlfriend came to the scene!】
People in the thread asked whether it was real and chased the OP for photos. The OP replied: 【Wait, let me organize it.】
After a long time, the OP updated again with a photo—shot secretly on-site. The OP said: 【Didn’t capture the real person, but the god is totally love-brained. His wallpaper is his girlfriend’s photo. There was a little mix-up just now—his phone got screen-cast and exposed on the spot. I barely managed to snap this. Afraid it’ll be deleted—look fast.】
If you went back to find the original post on the school forum now, it was gone. It was probably deleted by the school for privacy reasons. But that secretly taken photo had already gotten out.
Xie Yuncheng’s phone wallpaper was taken that day in the Northwest, before they separated. It had been dusk, there were lots of people on set, and when they danced around the bonfire, the image was blurred in motion. But later, when she closed her eyes to make a wish, he recorded her silently.
Even with only a side profile, it was bright and clear enough.
【Why does this side profile look so familiar?】
【No way… could it really be what I’m thinking?】
【I’m starting to get scared.】
Before Qin Sang could even react, the all-powerful netizens had already followed the clues and dug up a bunch of “coincidences”—including the high school Xie Yuncheng attended: Jingcheng No. 1 High.
His photo was still posted on the school’s honor board. It had been ten years. The photo had faded a bit, but you could still clearly make out his features: a clean, bright-eyed boy, with the spirited vigor unique to that age.
【Look what I found! (picture)】
Someone screenshot Qin Sang’s Baidu Baike profile: born the same year, also from J City, and her high school was also Jingcheng No. 1 High.
【Wait—does that mean my wife and my new husband are together?!】
【So Sang-sang’s mysterious boyfriend is actually an aerospace institute engineer—and at god-tier student level, too.】
【AHHH your ability to grasp the key point is so bad. Shouldn’t the key point be… they were classmates?! A reunion after years, or a campus romance? Any classmates here to testify? I’m dying—please dig, please explain, please feed me gossip.】